|Who wouldn't want to be here rather than at work?|
There are thousands in the population who, saturated with bad news from relentless cable news, nagged at by wives or husbands and pesky kids, bitched by bosses and mid-management suck ups, profess a need to go to that "happy place". You know this spot, the sphere where there are only sunny days in the mid 70s, slight breezes, lilting piano and flute music on the breeze, perfectly managed fields of tall grass, trees and farm houses. Peace, serenity, nothing to fray the nerves worse than they already are, nothing to shorten the lifespan.
You can't blame people for wanting to escape all the congested chaos life in the city forces on us, but it has been a complaint of mine that this glorified daydreaming has made it into the mainstream culture and that entire industries of art and literature have been produced that caters to and profits from the genuinely weary and those who imagine themselves beleagured.
The culture of complaint, as beautifully described by Robert Hughes in his polemic of the same name, resulted in it's cure, the Culture of Relief. Whatever one has to do get through the day is a matter none of us can argue with, so long as the means don't trample on the rights of others or involves rudeness or violence (although violence is, at times, an attractive option given some kinds of public obnoxiousness that continually reveals itself), but the constantly heard refrain of people needing to get to that "happy place" , to leave behind the squalling brats and paperwork and instead chill by the stream, drinking lemonade, fishing for trout in the stream. Thomas Kinkade, the "artist of light" who parlayed some marginal drafting skills into a likely fortune manufacturing paintings that contained visual scenarios of peaceful places back-lit and highlighted with stage lighting so as to suggest stress free and divine essences the buyer would like to hang in their den for a fee, has passed away, deceased at the age of 54. My condolences to his family for their loss.
I hope Mr.Kinkade finds that Happy Place. Perhaps he can use one of his illuminating paintbrushes as flash light should the passage get too dark.